Fate of Kings! Plus Lancer
by Victor Weiss
Summary: Arturia Pendragon thought she had finally died at the end of the Fourth Holy Grail war in Fuyuki, man is she going to WISH she did! As the story unfolds, loyalties will be tested! Enemies will be fallen! Friendships will be made! And Lancer will suffer! Rated T for Lancer suffering and Gil-chan.
1. Prologue

**The Fate of Kings! Plus Lancer**

 **Prologue Start!**

"No..."

Arturia couldn't believe it, no, rather, she didn't wish to, after her stunning defeat during the Fourth Holy Grail War, her final attack against the Servant Archer, the King of Heroes, had been launched and the Grail destroyed, robbing her of any chance to fix the mistakes of her ruling, she had been surprised that rather thab be sent back to that hellish moment where her Kingdom fell, she had instead been greeted by the cncroaching blackness of death itself.

It seemed that for all her struggles and pleading, the Glorious King of Knights Arturia Pendragon would finally be granted a death that left no one saved, not her kingdom, not herself. It was in this despair that she found something that had cut deeper than any wound ever inflicted.

She had felt relieved that it was finally over.

But now? Now, here she stood within the Emerald Forest, a greatsword clutched in both her hands, Aura, the embodiment of her soul itself, swirling around the gleaming blade as she brought it to bear before the newest shock in her reincarnated life within Remnant.

The crimson eyes, though not slitted, shone with confidence and command, urging her to bend her knee and bow low to the ground through gaze alone. Truly, were she a less proud warrior, Arturia might have done so. But the golden hair, free of any restrictions, down and fluttering in the breeze that rolled through the forest around them. Nor the way arms crossed over the figures chest, glimpses of red tattoos across the otherwise flawless skin.

There could be no mistake of who stood before her. "Does my majesty finally break through your shy denial, King of Knights?"

Still, above all else, Arturia had to address this, if only because she needed to be absolutely sure.

"King of Heroes, are...Have you been reincarnated as a _woman_?"

"Tch," The haughty dismissal spoke volumes of how much the question truly irked the apparently reincarnated Gilgamesh, "Astute as ever I see, yes, I have been brought into this world in the vessel of a woman, but whether or not I am male, I am and always will be the King of Heroes," She flicked some of her golden locks behind her ear, where familiar earings hung from, and her frown turned into a smirk. "And you, my beloved King of Knights, remain mine as per my previous decree."

"And you still speak madness worthy of Caster's rambling!" Arturia spat, gripping her greatsword tighter that she sore the handle would warp to the fit of her fingers. "Why are you here?!" An amused huff was the response. "Answer me, King of Heroes!"

"Why," Girlgamesh said, tilting her head as if Arturia were some stupid child asking an equally stupid question, "I am going through initation to gain entrance to Beacon, same as you I imagine."

Again, Arturia was struck by horror. "...No."

The feminine red lips of the King of Heroes' glistened as her tongue slid across them. "Yes, you know what that means, correct?"

" _No_..." This could NOT be happening!

"You and I are partners," Gilgamesh said, lips curling from an amuse smirk to an outright delighted grin while Arturia's expression went from horrified shock to pure agonized realization. "For the next. _Four_. _**Years**_ ~"

Within the Emerald Forest, former King of Knights and Ruler of Camelot, blood of Dragons, Arturia Pendragon now Arturia Arc let out a wail of despair so loud generations years later would have felt it in their bones.

The laughter that followed was just as chilling.

* * *

 **MEANWHILE IN ANOTHER PART OF THE FOREST**

"You must be _joking_."

The bellowing laugh that followed this statement all but confirmed that this was not some cosmic joke, or rather, it was but it was not meant for the amusement of the afflicted party, no, this was was a joke so cruel that even the gods would never concoct, let alone employ, it upon another soul no matter how damned.

And yet, for Diarmuid Adfer, it had indeed happened, it was happening and even now he wanted to demand what cruel god that had to laughing at him to stop this madness or kill him now.

At the very least, the rather large breast he was being face pressed into might do the trick, he'd need only turn his face into it, let it smother him and then die and be at peace, but before that plan could be implemented, he was released and left to drop the ground where his twin spears, named obviously for his old ones, lay forgotten after he'd been swept up by the woman who had caught him so off guard.

Above him, standing at almost seven feet, just shy of it by two inches if Diarmuid's own five feet and seven inches were any indication, was none other than the fabled King of Conquerors Iskandar.

Now a _woman_.

"This is no jest, Lancer!" Only Rider could be so loud and yet so plainly heard, even with the obvious femininity of the body the other was placed in, there could be no mistaking whom stood before him by looks alone.

Rider, or Iskadra as she was apparently called in his lifetime of hers, stood tall, with a mane of red hair that flowed out like a cloud, sharp features, high cheek bones, and while she wore plates of armor on her shoulders and chest, her tanned skin that stood flawless on display was toned with muscle, and Diarmuid was willing to bet beneath all that the remainder of her body would be just the same, muscled to carry ten men, five per arm, and yet lean enough to still have the appeal of a womanly figure.

The fact her chest could have smothered him was proof enough of that.

"Forgive me," Diarmuid said, sitting on the grass and staring up at the grinning warrior, who's hands were planted on her armored hips, "I was just getting over the sheer horror of having my entire life shaken, again."

"Fret not, Lancer!" And did Diarmuid ever tell her how BADLY it grated on his nerves when she refused to address him by his name? "We will have plenty of time to get acquinted and celebrate this glorious surprise during our time as teammates here in Beacon!"

And that was another **_GREAT_ **reminder. "...Of course," Diarmuid suddenly found stabbing himself with Gae Dearg very tempting right now. "We are partners, as per the rules set forth by the Headmaster..."

"Indeed!" And then, she offered her hand to him, to aid him up. "Now come, we must pass our test and prove ourselves worthy of this prestigious Acade-"

Both stopped short as a wal echoed throughout the forest, actually stilling the very air itself for the briefest of moments, not even the birds chirped, as if afraid of what might follow such a terrible sound.

Everything...Except the King of Conqeurors, who laughed and gripped his shoulder, and like he were but a toy, lifted him up onto his feet, "Let us hurry! It seems our fellow initiates need help!" And with a flash of steel, Iskandra had drawn the massive blade from it's sheath on her back, wielding a blade as thick as Diarmuid's arm and twice as long like it were a mere five times smaller. "Onwards!"

And off she marched.

Diarmuid stared after her, spear dejectedly hanging almost limp in his hands as he contemplated existence.

Eventually, after sighing, he follwoed his partner to whatever madness she lead them to.

And why did that wail sound familiar...? And why was he so inexplicably angry? Questions best left for after the initiation, he was sure.

 **End of Prologue!**

* * *

 _But not Lancer's suffering~ Anyways, tell me what you lot think! Praise me! Hate me! AND FOR GAIA'S SAKE HELP ME COME UP WITH A FEM!GIL NAME! Seriously, I could not figure out a thiiiiing. Thanks for reading, people, VW, out!_


	2. Chapter 1: Arturia

**Fate of Kings! Plus Lancer**

 **Chapter One  
Arturia**

She had been betrayed.

There was no other way to describe the feeling of anguish she felt as she watched her Noble Phantasm strike the Holy Grail, her kingdom's salvation, and could only watch in horror as it exploded with all the mana that had built within it. The power of Two Command Seals had compelled her, but it did little to dull the fact it was still her destroying her only means of a miracle to save her kingdom...and by extension, herself.

 _Why_...?

She could only ask as the explosion took her, pain flaring across her body as force attempted to rip her apart, Archer, that damned monarch, had already been swallowed up, she ddin't even have the drive to curse him more before she felt darkness take her, leaving her without an answer as to why she couldn't get her miracle... _Why_ couldn't she save her kingdom?

Why couldn't she be free of the burden of Kingship?

With that final mystery, she awaited death and the battlefield that was the fall of her kingdom once more...Only to be greeted by darkness, unending and entirely silent... She waited, aware that she was no longer aware, she had no body... But she could still see...? She quickly grew panicked, was she truly dying? Or had somethng happened?

Then, to her complete surprise, she was suddenly small, and being born again!

How did she know? Well, unless she was just taken from the carcass of a dead animal for warmth, then she had definitely just gone through childbirth.

"Aww!" A tired woman's voice cooed shortly after her being brought into the world. Again. "She's so cute! She has my hair! And eyes!"

Arturia took this moment to force her eyes to look about, and what she saw was a blonde woman, fair in beauty, sweat on her forehead, and a smile so bright it would make the sun seem dim in comparison, her hair was just a shade darker than Arturia's own while she had been king, but the eyes were a spitting match for her usual emerald. All in all, as far as mother's went, she could see the resemblance.

"She does? There I was hoping she'd have my eyes, at least," There was a deeper, more masculine voice, and Arturia shifted her attention to catch sight of the man who would undoubtedly be her father. He was a tall and simple looking man, but his blue eyes shone with kindness, and his wild black hair and stubble lent him an air of ruggedness that Arturia would admit would make most maidens giggle and take notice. "But still, it just means I have two beautiful women in my life now, don't I?"

"Don't get greedy, mister," Her mother scolded the man good naturedly. "We were lucky with just her...But now? We finally have a child, my love..." The arms holding Arturia gently squeezed her. "Our own baby girl...What should we name her?"

"Well, if it was a boy, I was sorta set on Arthur..." Her father admitted sheepishly, chuckling. "But, since she's a girl, I guess we could change it to something else."

"What about... Arturia?"

"Arturia Arc...?" A pause from her dark haired father, who stroked his stubble. Then, he grinned and nodded, peering down a ther with shining eyes. "How does that sound my girl? Do you like the name Arturia?"

Arturia, for lack of a better means of verbal communication, broke into a long wail and waved her little arms. She didn't want to be Arturia! She wanted a new life!

"She likes it!"

Men were accursedly **_oblivious_**!

* * *

At the age of five, Arturia Arc, had grown up in quite the humble abode with her mother and father, Jadus and Rosary Arc, Rosary, her mother, being the woman who married into the Arc name. Jadus was a Huntsman, so often times her father was aware on jobs to put lien in their pockets and food on the table, this left Arturia to stay at home and help her mother, not that she minded, compared to her previous life, helping her mother carry firewood and fetching ingredients from the local forest was hardly a chore.

It was refreshing, and her parents were just so warm and always had affection for her, whenever her father would return, she would always receive the best hugs, and her mother in his absence would always treat her like a princess, the fact she laughed whenever Arturia scowled at being called "her little princess" had also charmed the blonde's heart in a way. Arturia was happy, she was genuinely happy and this humble living was simply blissful, even for all the troubles afflicting the world around them, it was truly a life she'd never thought she would have.

But all good things eventually came to an end and at the age of nine Arturia was reminded of this when her mother fell ill, terribly ill... Enough so that her father had returned as fast as the wind could carry him, and both had stood at the bedside while the local village doctor nursed over the sickly woman, a month of fighting whatever had afflicted her later, she passed on just a week after Arturia had turned ten.

The proud of King of Knights would freely admit she wept like the child her body appeared to be while in the arms of her father, who through his own grief whispered comforts into her ear that it would be okay. With her mother gone and her father still away often, she found herself in the company of her friends and extended family more, but at the age of twelve she was stiffled enough that when she next saw her father she declared she wanted to be a Huntress.

Much to her surprise, her father had readily agree to it, and after a few days of basic training and choosing a weapon, a greatsword he'd used previously before he'd gotten one better, she was quickly enrolled in a combat academy, where she excelled, mostly due to her knowledge of her previous life as the King of Knights.

She had become something of a prodigy,and while her body didn't have any of the magical enhancement and properties of a hard life being groomed for kingship, she was still experienced as a commander and the training of the academy was enough to build up her slight figure into something to truly meet her requirements.

True, Remnant might have access to Mana or magical arts, but it had Aura, Aura! Her very soul made manifested to give her strength, and as she learned about it, she learned it could protect her from harm, give her additional strength, it was easily a low level Mana Burst! To say she was pleased was an understatement, she'd already had an inkling of how to use Aura for such techniques, so it was something she took to.

It wasn't long, by the age of sixteen she had graduated with top honors, and she went from some lean little girl barely looking fit enough to lift a pair of buckets full of water to the young woman who stood before her instructors with an air of such confidence that they almost felt they should be standing at attention instead, you'd never recognize her.

Now, at seventeen and having received her return letter from Beacon Academy, she was almost as excited as her father.

"What does it say?" He asked, peering over her shoulder, which wasn't hard, she was only five feet, He was easily six. "Did you get accepted?"

"Let me open and read it, then we'll see!" She pushed him back a bit, and he laughed, honestly, he could a big man child at times! She opened the letter, and pulled the letter out and unfolded it, clearing her throat and making sure she had father's rapt attention.

She did, naturally.

"Ahem!"

 _Dear Arturia Arc._

 _We at Beacon Academy have looked over your Transcripts and spoken with your referred instructors and after discussions with our staff, we have decided to grant you admittance to our Academy of Beacon in Vale. Classes begin in three months and as per agreements listed in our conditions, we expect you not to miss initiation and we look forward to your attendance, miss Arc._

 _Headmaster Ozwald._

The rest was just lists of suggest supplies and travel means for great prices, along with a special coupon that would allow her to get a special "Scroll", something that, for a small village like hers, was unheard of simply because of how expensive they were! But she didn't need to get further before her father took her into his arms with a cry of joy.

"You're in!"

She matched his excitement. "I'm going to Beacon!"

Mother would have been proud, she knew, and the daughter and father spent the rest of the day going over the final arrangements, settling on what could be done right away and what could be held off for the next three months. It didn't take long, but for all that...

"Arturia, before anything else, I think it's time I showed you something I've been saving for you." Her father smiled, and she felt warmth bubble in her chest, along with anticipation. She nodded and he took her into the storage room in the basement.

After moving some boxes aside, which had formed a wall, and revealed a mount...And on it was a set of armor.

It was basic, silver, well kept metal with golden trims along the edges, the pattern for the Arc family crest across the breast plate. It also had armguards and greaves that could be fit easily over any clothing she chose! It was convenient, and while not as fully protective as a "true knight" armor set, Arturia was still gladdened to have it.

"I know you'll make me proud, my little princess," Jadus told her, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

"I'll try, father," Arturia vowed, hugging him tightly, eyes still half on the armor he'd given to her. "For you and mother."

And that was how Arturia Arc had come into the life on Remnant and being accepted into Beacon Academy.

* * *

 **End of chapter One!**

 _Yeah, that's right! The first four chapters are just little stories to get you all up to speed on how different our heroes are and how they'd grown up into their new world. Next up! You guessed it! Everyone's favorite Archer, Gilgamesh! Wooo!_


	3. Chapter 2: Gilgamesh

**Fate of Kings! Plus Lancer**

 **Chapter Two  
Gilgamesh**

"Gilgamesh?"

"That is correct," A haughty snort. "Gilian is hardly a name fitting for one such as I, so I have discarded it and instead take up Gilgamesh."

"But it's so..." The blonde beauty who honestly looked torn between confused and amused hesitated, which would have been strange considering she was currently being stared down by a four year old Gilgamesh, whom had just announced that "Gillian was no longer necessary and so I shall be henceforth called Gilgamesh!", needless to sa the woman was...Surprised. "Manly?"

Gilgamesh, formerly Gillian, stood with her arms crossed and golden brow raised as if her mother was a mental invalid for daring to defy the decree. "It matters now which sex it best represents, for it is a name worthy of my majesty," She punctuated this by flicking her mid length hair with a hand, as if to inspire confidence in her beauty.

Not very successful given that Gilgamesh was only four at the moment and could only be really described as 'adorable", but still it was the effort that counted!

Finally, the dam broke and her mother burst ingo giggles. "Oh, Gillian!"

"Gilgamesh!"

Her mother continued as if she hadn't heard, "You're so cute!" And with that, she scooped up her haughty four year old child, again ignoring the indignant demands to be released. "Tell you what my dear daughter," She poked the red eyed child's nose, "See what your father says about your "royal" decree," She winked. "If he agrees, then I will too." She smiled.

Gilgamesh, with all the indignant rage a four year old could muster, glowered at the pathetic being that was to be her mother in this world, but if her own appearance was to be anything, Gilgamesh would truly grow into a beauty to be envied, at only twenty-six, Jasmine Aurum was hailed as one of the most beautiful women in all of Mistral's upper class families, her family being one of the richest as well.

 _Golden Rule A_ rank was a beautiful thing, was it not?

"Very well!" Gilgamesh relented finally when his commanding gaze had no effect on the cheery woman "If father agrees, then I expect to be address as my proper title and newly decreed name!" She would broke no further arguments on the subjects! Gilian was just insulting! It was just as manly as Gilgamesh anyhow!

It wouldn't be two hours later that Gilgamesh's father returned and once his mother had informed him of the decree, that the stoic Balerion Aurum stared down at his four year old daughter and frowned, glimmering red eyes peering down without an ounce of budging on such a decision. Gilgamesh's own eyes were likewise also unmoving in their decision, and would accept no challenges, even from those called themselves her parents!

Finally, the head of the Aurum household replied, "Haaah! No."

Gilgamesh's brow twitched. "Excuse me? I am Gilgamesh! A name befitting one such as myself! It is my decree!"

"You decree, huh, little lady?" Balerion lifted a dark brow. "What? Are you a queen, now?" He grinned.

"Of-" Gilgamesh stopped, then grit her teeth, no, she was not a king, not here, ot officially... Even if her soul and memories were that of the King of Heroes, her body and history here were not... That meant her "decrees" were nothing... But that also meant another thing... "Course not," She finished, tone low, before her red eyes glimmered and she suddenly smirked. "Then I shall merely have to become a King!"

"A queen, you mean?"

"I know procisely what I said, I shall become king of Mistral and you shall have to obey my decree!"

And so, destiny was set in stone!

* * *

Life sucked! Gilgamesh didn't even know how anyone could survive being so frail and weak! Sure she was only eleven but still, the training regime she had put together for herself was laughably easy! And yet here she was, hands on her knees, sweat dripping from her forehead and heart hammering in her chest like it wanted to play her ribs like drums. Above her the trainer her family had hired was waiting for her to recover, albeit a little impatiently if the tapping of his foot was anything to go by.

"I warned you not to hit the course sprinting."

Pant. "Silence," Pant. "Mongrel. I am aware..." Pant. "Of my limits! And these are not them!" Gilgamesh stood tall again and rolled her shoulders, narrowing her eyes and taking a deeper breath. "Alright! Let us continue! I have only one year to prove my abilities and I shall not fail! A king does not fail!"

"A... King?" Her trainer asked, blinking.

"Don't ask!" Her mother giggled off to the side, having been watching. "It's just what my darling Gillian-" " _Gilgamesh_!" "Wants to be when she grows up."

"...Weird."

"I didn't ask for your opinion, Mongrel! Let us resume the training!"

"Gillian!"

" _Gilga-Mesh_! Say it with me, mother, Gil-"

"Gillian, there is no reason to be rude! Apologize at once!"

"I will once you get my proper name right!"

The trainer only sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. This was going to be a long year, it seemed...

* * *

Gilgamesh was now fourteen, just shy of fifteen in the next two months, and with arms crossed over her budding chest, the golden haired young woman was as smug as could be, standing nexr to her peers, all of whom were either sixteen or freshly seventeen. Even beneath their ages, Gilgamesh was easily as tall as the majority of them. Her form was lithe. Wearing form fitting black shorts that came up from her mid thighs up to her her waist. Above that was a crimson "sash" that hung behind her and cover much of her thighs, ending with a golden buckle.

Her torso was likewise scant, her arms and mid-riff on full display, revealing tone muscles...And crimson tattoos running along her arms and down her stomach, dipping beneath her bottoms. The flash of skin of her thighs showed the tattoos even went down her legs. Her forearms were covered by long, black gloves, with some golden plates. Her torso was armored, a breast plate and pauldrons, while not as "large" as her male self's armor, it did have crimson fabric hanging from them, covering her biceps.

All in all, she not only looked smug, but she rich as well... And that was what she was going for.

"And now, top honors. For combat abilities and our youngest graduate to date, Gillian Aurum!" The Headmaster of Haven Academy announced, gesturing to Gilgamesh, who glowered at the aging Faunus with simmering red eyes. When will everyone get it that her name was Gilgamesh?!

Nonetheless, she walked over with all the grace and patience of the monarch she inteded to be, accepting the medal, then shrugged and approaching the podium, she cleared her throat and caught the attention of everyone, she could see her parents as well, a moment to collect herself, then! She spoke.

"Hear me now!" Her voice dripped with command, and even the headmaster seemed to perk at attention, "As the youngest Huntress to graduate from Haven, and the first of the Aurum Family history, I accept this medal," She held it up. "And I now set my sights upon beacon Academy! And I wil forever carve Mistral's, along with my own, name into history to produce not only the youngest, most powerful Huntress in this generation..." Her red eyes scanned the crowd, then she announced. "But the first true monarch since the times of kings and Knights!"

There was absolute silence, then! Clang! Gilgamesh dropped the medal, turned...Paused, then turned back and grabbed the mic. "And my name is Gilgamesh!" Mic drop! And off the stage she walked off the stage!

* * *

"My lady Gillian."

Gilgamesh sighed and didn't bother to correct her manservant, the flight to Vale was taking it's sweet time, so she had been watching TV and drinking wine, now she was fifteen and had been accepted into Beacon Academy without a hitch, honestly, it seemed her Luck and Charisma skills had remained, either that or she was simply so good she still possessed them to a degree. Golden Rule was certainly still following her around if all the wealth her family and herself fell into was anything to go by.

"What is it, Adamus?" Gilgamesh drawled around her wine sipping. "Another report from Vale?"

"Yes, but this is something interesting I thought you would wish to know," Adamus Taurus was a middle aged Faunus with a pair of horns poking out through the top of black hair, which honestly could have hidden said horns if not for the way they were a dull gray rather than black. "I was sent a list of students would be attending Beacon. I thought you'd wish to see who would be your peers?"

That caught the future Momarch's attention, she set her wine glass down and lifted her hand, taking hold of the report, and nodding to her servant. "Very good work," She nodded and began to read the list, humming thoughtfully, quite the list, almost three dozen students? Well it seemed there was going to be quite the competitio- Her red eyes stopped on a particular name. Stunned.

 _Arturia Arc_

He would have doubted it, he was about to, but the accompanying picture? There could be no doubt! Glimmering eyes to outshine the beauty of any emerald, hair a light blonde, and a small happy smile on her face, rather than the usual stern expression she wore during the war. There could be no doubt as to the identity of the spectre Gilgamesh was staring at. "King of Knights," She whispered, and a familiar longing bloomed in her chest, stroking her thumb over the picture. "It seems you and I are forever destined to meet."

"And this time, you will become my bride!" She broke into a laugh.

A throat clearing. "Ahem."

"Ah!" Gilgamesh jumped, turning to Adamus, who was staring at her with a raise brow behind his sunglasses. "I forgot you were there..." She muttered, "Go check our arrival time!" She hissed, the Faunus bowed, turned and moved off, leaving Gilgamesh alone to her fantasies... and what fantasies they were.

Beacon would never know what hit it.

* * *

 **End of Chapter Three!**

 _There it was, Gil-Chan being Gil-chan! And now she can begin to full stalk, and given the ages, Arturia-Senpai! And maybe, Senpai will finally notice her! Maybe, possibly... Naaaah, you'd have a better chance of Diarmuid not suffering! And that's what we're here for, Kingly stuff and Lancer suffering!_

 _Anyways, thanks to those who follow and fav! Any thoughts, questions or suggestions, feel free to PM or Review them! I do reply! SOmetimes, mostly... Possibly! Anyways, have a nice day or evening, or both! Oh, also, yes, this does take place some years before the events of RWBY's original story, hence why Ozpin isn't headmaster! Just sayin'._


	4. Chapter 3: Iskandra

**Fate of Kings! Plus Lancer**

 **Chapter Three  
Iskandra**

If anyone had told Iskandar, King of Conqerors, that he'd be reincarnated after his defeat at the hands of the Babylonian King of Heroes, he'd have laughed and clapped them on the back for the fine joke. But when it had actually happened and he found himself being born again, the once-man thought everything was looking up for him!

He'd been entirely right!

As it was, Iskandra had a pair of loving parents, a large extended family, and a whole community for whom she would gladly lay down her life!

Which was why she was currently standing atop a sandy dune of Vacuo's desert, watching as her family, which was really a tribe of raiders, break intoa violent struggle with a smaller village, and once flames starting spewing she could only sigh and cross her seventeen year old arms over her armored chest with a groan. "I knew this would happen." She grumbled to herself, palm sliding down her face as a small group fo her men, a dozen strong, stood beside her, watching with sweating brows as the village and their comrades destroyed each other in a bout so violent and escalated it wouldn't be long before both sides ceased being an issue. "I trusted the wrong man for negotiations."

It had been so simple a job! All Percy had to do was go down there, tell the villagers that unless they joined Iskandra's Raiding Army they would be raided, naturally, he was to also mention the perks of joining, protection from outside forces such as Grimm and other raiding parties, fair and decent trade! And being part of the war machine that would eventually conquer Vacuo! What wasn't there to love about this proposition?!

So, with a grin on her face and some words of encourgament to her Faunus she sent him and two dozen of her men to ask as envoys for her.

Naturally, it turned out to be a _total mistake_.

"Should..." One of her spoke up after seeing one of the village tents go up in a fiery inferno. "Should we go...Help?"

"Who? Percy the idiot? Or the villagers?" Another jeered, causing a few to chuckle, honestly, they gave Percy too hard a time, but Iskandra could hardly bring hsrself to defend him this time, this was a blunder beyond all his previous ones. so she stayed silent. "Well, what's the word, my king?"

"I am considering just letting this proceed," Iskandra relayed simply, still looking less then pleased as the village lost two more tents. Before sighing and turning away, "This was a wasted trip, go down there, capture who you can and save what can be saved! We're returning to camp!" Her voice bellowed.

"Yes your majesty!" Her forces cried and drew their weapons, rifles beginning to fire as her melee fighters charged down the slope to face the remaining village defenders in battle.

* * *

Back at their main camp, which held about two hundred strong and was carved into a rockface, Iskandra flopped onto her pile of pillows and groaned into the air. Naturally, her mother knitting her another fabric project asked the obvious "What was wrong?"

"The village I intended to make a part of my conquering empire wasn't as cooperative as I'd hoped..." She relayed to her knitting mother, who age was treating as harshly as the sun harshily treated the uncovered for long. "And then it was destroyed because the negotiator I assigned for the task wasn't as bright as I'd hoped!"

"Now, now dear," Her mother chastized, red hair graying at the roots, face wrinkled and amused. "Vacuo wasn't established in a day, it won't fall within a few months." She laughed.

Iskandra groaned, sitting upright and glancing around. "Where is father?" She asked.

"He should be back shortly, I believe he was running an errend for something." Came the easy reply. "But really, you should not let this slip up ruin your dream, you've gotten other villages to join your empire, yes?"

"One other, and two more burned... Well," The redheaded "king" scratched the back of her head. "Three now... But still! What can I possibly lack that they don't see? Can they not see the Kingdom barely treats them as if they exist? My glorious army would be far better suited to protecting them rather than relying on a negligent council!"

"Mhm." The aged woman that was Iskandra's mother nodded. "I agree, But maybe it's because you don't have much of a name for yourself, yet? After all, you may have the beginnings of an empire, but your name isn't as well known as your father's, perhaps if you accomplished some deeds, get your face and strength out there to the common masses and with them, I'm sure will come the recognition of your vision?"

Iskandra was about to wave her hand dismissively before she stopped and actually thought about the suggestion. And the more she thought about it the more it clicked! Of course that was what she was missing, how could she forget that Iskandra's Invincible Army was missing the sheer fame it needed to accomplish the task she set out for it! It needed a well known King to lead the charges! And without the fame of name she'd never succeed more than failed.

"Mother! You are most right!" She announced and stood, laughing loudly to all those who would listen. "I first need to spread my name to the Vacuo! No, the world! And then, and only then, will the villages who meet me and my envoys see that we are the better choice for the Kingdom than the fickle Councillors!" The redheaded King chuckled, before turning to face her mother. "Now, what would be the best means for me to spread my name..."

"Beacon Academy," A deeper beritone voice said from behind her, whirling around Iskandra was faced with her father entering the cave, his swords at his sides and cloak billowing in the outside winds. "Go there, and you will be alongside the very best the world has to offer, topple them, stand above them and you will be feared and love across the four kingdoms." The man was grey, stooping over, but stll his eyes were as sharp as steel. "Only then, my daughter, will you be able to rise to true monarchy."

Iskandra stared, before she nodded, lips forming into a grim line as determined took root in her chest. "Very well, I have my objective!" She drew her sword, holding it outwards. "I shall graduate this Academy as the best, and with it's renown and fame provided! I shall conquer first Vacuio, and then the rest of Remnant!"

"You'll need this," Her mother said, holding up the fabric she'd been knitting to reveal it was a red cloak, with a golden sword stiched into it, along with the pair of wings on either side of it, the blackened fur of an animal around the tip of it, and a chain to connect the ends. "It's only right a future king have a kingly traveling cloack, yes?"

With a bright smile, The King of Conquerors reborn remembered why he loved these two, and why she was proud to call them her parents. "It's perfect, mother," She advanced, taking the fabric and throwing it around her shoulders, clasped. And she stood tall, the fabric hanging around her.

Her mother and father nodded, both pleased.

Iskandra envoloped them in a hug, which they returned after getting over their surprise. When she pulled back, she was grinning widely. "Be safe until my glorious return, mother, father." Their affirmatives given, bid farewells and after informing her men of her plans, she set off towards Vale!

* * *

"So, you want to join my Academy without any Transcripts?" Headmaster Ozwald of Beacon asked from across the desk, his hair was grey, long and tired behind his head in a tail, his face only beginning to show the signs of age, wrinkles at the corners of the eyes and lips, his brows creased. "Miss Iskandra Sand, do you realize what my Academy is, by chance?" He asked with a raised brow.

"Yes!" Iskandra grinned, arms crossed over her chest, staring down at the Headmaster, even seated she was taller than the man. "It is an Academy for only the best warriors of this generation attend, and so it is the best place for me to prove my mettle! I have trained since I was but a girl of eight years, my sword," She patted the handle of said simple at her side, "Has carried me from Vacuo to Vale, and now, I wish to make my case. But if you doubt my strength, I shall merely prove myself in your Academie's Initiation!"

Ozwald's lips quirked, he was amused, he leaned back in his chair and hummed. "What about Academically? We don't just cover combat classes, we also cover history, and a myriad of other subjects, if you can't keep up on matters of the mind, the you may not last long at Beacon."

That had the redhead stopping, before frowning and looking more thoughtful then the Headmaster had seen during her entire "case" being made to him about why she should be let into the Academy. "How long until Beacon begins it's classes?" She asked then.

"Two weeks and two months," Ozwald responded easily.

"Plenty of time! I shall simply require a series of books that cover the topics that will be discussed and I shall be well ready to receive lessons!" Iskandra announced, standing now with a fist held up. "This, I can promise you!"

"You intend to read up and learn various subjects within basically two months to cover four years at my Academy?"

"Of course! Graduation is my goal, and no objective, be it puzzle, battle or both, shall keep me from it!" She planted her hands on the table, leaning forward and grinning widely at the Headmaster, red eyes boring down onto the man. "So, shall I get my chance?"

Ozwald observed her, leaning there, figure all muscle, bound in red and black armor, her arms mostly exposed except for the furred vembraces of leather, the red cloak hanging off her shoulders. Down to the red combat skirt that covered armored thighs, revealing the armored boots. Behind her, the handle of that greatsword showed.

Finally, the man nodded. "Very well."

"B-But, headmaster!" His aide said from her spot, a pretty blonde with blue eyes, looking terribly surprised by the announcement. "She has no transcripts! All we know is her name and place of origin! We don't even know what she intends to do once she graduates beacon! or if she's a criminal!"

"I am no criminal!" Iskandra bellowed, stepping forward. "I am Iskandra Sands of Vacuo! And my goal is to graduate Beacon and be recognized!" So that she could build a kingdom toppling army but no one needed to know that. "And I have been cleared to get my chance!" She turned, cloak billowing outwards with the sheer majesty of the turn...

And revealing an excitedly wagging fluffy red tail that could only belong to a Canine faunus.

* * *

 **End of chapter Three**

 _There it is! Iskandra's epic journey begins and starts again! Redundant! AWESOME! AND NEXT CHAPTER, LANCER! And then the real story can begin. Anyways, since I was being rude to The Thinker for the whole Gil name idea thing, Thanks, Thinker! I'd have thanked you privately, but no profile thing. So yeah._

 _That said, thanks again to all those who fav'd and followed! Along with those who reviewed! I do enjoy hearing your thoughts, now have yourselves a good and night, until next chapter! VW, out!_


	5. Chapter 4: Diarmuid

**Fate of Kings! Plus Lancer**

 **Chapter Four  
Diarmuid**

" _And when you fall into the searing pits of hell_!" He'd snarled from bloodied teeth, " _You will remember the hateful rage of Diamuid_!"

Not the most noble of dying words, Diarmuid admitted that freely now that he had been reborn, but at the time all he'd wished to do was serve his master loyally and fight an honorable battle. And both wishes had been thoroughly crushed by the deceitful methods of Saber's master, so he liked to think his rage was partially understandable on the matter.

That didn't dampen the shame, however.

So when he had been reborn into this new world, Diarmuid had vowed that this time, THIS TIME he would serve his lord loyally and faithfully. His lord in this case being his father.

Who _hated_ him.

Like, entirely loathed him to the point where the bruises he sported weren't from the bullies at school, no, the myriad of bruises adorning the young five year old Diarmuid's back were from his father, who was halfway done his bottle of Atlesian Spirits, looking at his kneeling son with barely hidden contempt. "Your teachers have called me again, you got into another fight with your fellow students?"

The five year old bowed his head deeper, his new body wasn't used to the pain, and he'd made the mistake of shedding tears the first few times, but not now, Diarmuid understood well that he would never have his father's love, after all, how could he? It was because of his birth that the man had lost the love of his life. "Forgive me, father, they were harassing a younger girl, and I couldn't stand by-"

"Enough of your damn excuses!" The man roared, and the brief whistling of something flying through the air before DIarmuid grit his teeth as pain flared across head, and red droplets fell onto the flooor by his fist, along with the glass shards of the cup his father had thrown. "Every day it's the same spiel, I told you, I warned you, boy, that if you keep getting into fights with other students, they'll begin to think I raised a ruffian!"

Diarmuid could have told him how a ruffian would beat his own child, belittle him like he wasn't even worth the drink just freshly spilled, or didn't react to the way his blood dripped from his head, but Diarmuid said nothing and simply bowed his head lower. "I am sorry, I shall attempt to be more mindful of my temper in the future, father." It was an empty promise, Diarmuid never got angry, what rage he had he unleashed upon the bullies five hours before.

"Hn," His father sighed, sitting more upright, "See that you do, now, against my better judgement I've decided to grant your request for a personal trainer, you've already started schooling, so you'll have to balance your actual school work between your lessons, if either begins to slip, I'll assume you're just wasting my money," The silver haired man sneered. "And you don't want that, my son."

The kneeling boy immediately felt elated, he'd asked his father for a personal trainer a year ago when he realized that the world of Remnant suffered from a plague of monsters known as "Grimm" and while the four major capitals of the world were safe behind their walls and defenses, there were dozens, maybe even hundreds, of smaller settlements dotted across the land not nearly as safe and so were under the protection of the Huntsmen.

Diarmuid would take up his spear for Chivalry once again.

"Thank you, father!" He said with true gratitude, even if he didn't lift his eyes from the floor. "I shall be sure allow neither to slip!" That was a promise, to both his lord and himself. He would take up the spear, and he would be a Huntsman, and he would gain his father's approval, all he need do was gain the approval of the masses around him and his father would see he was raising the family name upon Atlas' social latter and his fahter would acknowledge his work.

He had to.

"Hmph, your trainer will be here in a month, she's the relative of an old friend of mine from Mistral, so you be on your best behavior! Now," The man stood from his chair and waved his hand dismissively, "Go clean yourself up and finish up your homework. And remember, Diarmuid," His father's gleaming blue eyes narrowed over his shoulder. "I expect only the best from you."

"Of course, father," Diarmuid rose, ignoring his bloodied forehead and the warm of it drippling down his scalp, headwounds bled worse, but weren't as severe as they looked. "I shall not fail you!" He turned, and marched off towards his chambers.

Once there, he didn't waste time in tossing off his clothing and stepping into his private bathroom, staring into the mirror, his soft amber eyes gleamed back at him, and his messy dark hair was matted where blood had seeped. The only thing he shared from his father was his slightly paler complexion, everything else had been from his mother. "I can see why he hates me," Diarmuid mumbled, more wise than any five year old ought to be. "Every time he looks at me, he sees the woman he lost, for a son he never wanted."

He'd been an accident, a mistake made of a reckless night of passion, Diarmuid had been told as much, and he understood all too well that because his mother had died giving birth to him, a child never wanted, he resigned himself to being hated by the man who was his father.

He glanced down to the spot beside his right eye, and smiled slightly, there was no mole, his face was flawless, even if this life was considered hellish for many others, just the fact he didn't have that accursed mole was gift enough from the heavens. With a sigh, he turned and marched over to the shower, intent on getting the blood out of his hair and finishing up his homework.

He had a road ahead of him and he would be ready to tread it!

* * *

"Good!" The man who was his trainer cheered for the eleven year old, "That's good! Hah, astounding, my student, simply astounding! If I didn't know any better I'd say you were born to use the spear!"

Diarmuid stood there, in a form fitting white tank top, casual black sweats and hair matted in sweat, a simple training spear in his hands, it was heavy, and he'd been training with it since he was seven, it was unwieldy for his smaller frame, since it was meant to be used by a person ten years older, but for now, Diarmuid was wielding it as well any academy student. He gave the spear a small flick and placed it upon the floor, bowing his head to his master.

"You do too much kindness, mentor," The dark haired boy replied humbly. "It is because of your training that I am so skilled."

"Bah! I may be Argyle Nikos, but even I know that not all of those moves are mine, Diarmuid," The red haired trainer said with a small grin, his stubble growing out, and despite his relatively "old" age of forty-eight, the man seemed twenty years younger with all his energy, the man was always smiling, cheering for a joke and just over all good natured. Diarmuid admitted that even his father, who was stoic and cold, would often chuckle and regain some life in his mentor's presence.

"Slipping in after hours training sessions, I bet," a new voice supplied with more than a little amusement.

The two males turned and were greeted to the sight of a young girl, who was roughly four years older than Diarmuid at fifteen, glimmering green eyes and bright red hair, fair skin and already a beauty, there was no doubt who she was. "Ahh, daughter o' mine, you've arrived!" Argyle walked on over and hugged her, lifting her off her feet as they shared a laugh and greetings.

"I just arrived an hour ago, dad!" The woman laughed, returning the hug, before being set down. "Mother wanted me to tell you she expects you home within the month, no excuses!" She tried to appear serious, stomping her foot, and the way her dad broke into a laugh only added to the wamrth of the room.

"My, how scary!" Argyle grinnined, looking to Diarmuid, "Women are the most frightening beings on the planet, my student, remember well. Wives especially." His daughter "hey!"'d and then elbowed him, inciting another bout of laughter from the pair.

Diarmuid merely smiled, and relished what a family the father and daughter made, a family he would never have. "I shall take it to heart, mentor." He said with a grin.

* * *

Her name was Serra Nikos, daughter to Argyle and Elizabeth Nikos, she was twenty years old and Diarmuid was now sixteen, bordering on seventeen. She had finished schooling in Atlas, graduating with the very highest honors, becoming a beacon of pride for Mistralians back home and a point to reach for Atlesian students.

Argyle had gone back to Mistral two years ago, and Serra had taken over Diarmuid's training, and the two quickly fell into a friendship that seemed so natural and easy that it wasn't long before Diarmuid grew as comfortable with her as if she were his own sibling. This had been made easier since she was staying within his family's manor, making spending time together as easily as simply stepping into the sparring ring.

She had grown into a true beauty.

Diarmuid wasn't a slouch himself, at only sixteen he was getting the eyes of women two or three years his older, and a teacher once, but that had been quickly put down by Diarmuid himself, he was always flattered, but love wasn't what he wished for. No, at twelve, he'd entered into a true Huntsman academy, and now he was graduating, a full year ahead of the others due to his training and sheer drive.

He dared to think he was content with life. So that was probably his first mistake, because on the day of his graduation, he and Serra had been about to head out, celebrate over a meal and meet up with some of their friends from school when they'd been called into the main hall by his father.

When Argyle and his father were both there, the former having been unnounced, along with her mother, Diarmuid had a pit form in his stomach, and he looked to Serra, her expression was both confused... and worried. Nonetheless, he fell into a kneel before his father and her parents, surprising them as he always did when he did the gesture. "We are answering your summons, father," Diarmuid looked up, confused. "What is this about?"

The Nikos' glanced at his father, who nodded back and looked back to the pair. "Children," He began, raising his hands. "After some discussion last night between ourselves. We've come to a decision that you, my son," He gestured to Diarmuid, "And you, young Serra." He offered a small smile. "To be wed."

There was a moment of silence.

Diarmuid couldn't begin to think about this. Was this a joke? Wed? He and Serra? He was barely seventeen! and she was twenty! The gap didn't bother him so much as the suddenness of the decree, did no one consult either of them? This wasn't something you sprang upon teo people! His father had gone too far, no, both families had! He gathered his courage-

"I accept."

Amber eyes widened, and his head whipped to Serra, who stood with her eyes forward, hands in her lap. She didn't glance at him, it almost looked like she wasn't breathing. He frowned, about to speak out.

"Good! Now, what about you, my former student?" Argyle asked, looking absoutely elated, even Elizabeth seemed to smile brighter, and his father was expectant, eyes hard...but urging.

Diarmuid was silent, before finally he relented, "I accept as well."

He drowned out the rest of the words, merely nodding at points to show he was listening, if only barely, any questions that were asked he answered, or Serra did, and several days later, he found himself knocking at her door.

There was a muffled "come in", and he opened the door, stepping into Serra's bedroom and he took in the sight of her, standing in front of a full body mirror, holding up various wedding dresses to herself, appearing all too eager to get it out of the way, and Diarmuid stared at her, his heart stung. He couldn't see her face, but he knew the air that surrounded her, it was one he felt all too much his entire life.

"Why did you agr-"

"Do you think white is too much?" She cut him off brightly. Before holding up a dress with white, but some blue added. "Or should I add in some color? Maybe red?"

"Serra, answer the question, why did you agree to this marriage?" He tried again, just as softly as he approached her.

It was only when he caught her face in the mirror, cheeks red, eyes glimmering with unspent tears and shoulders barely shaking, did he realize he['d caught her in a bad moment. "It's... For the best, our families wanted it, so it is what we must do, r-right? Isn't that why you agreed?" Her voice was steady, but there was a growing quiver he could hear. "Duty, right?"

He opened his mouth to deny her, but, stopped, he would not lie to her, not to his friend. "Yes, it was duty."

"You don't love me?"

"Not as a lover would, but rather as a sister whom I've never had, I would stand at your side in battle, and I would lay down my life, but as a brother." Diarmuid was honest, and even as her shoulders began to shake, he reached up, planting his hand on her shoulder. "We can still stop this, we can both call off the marriage, they can't force this upon us."

"But our families... They expect it, and if we call it off, it'll be an insult to them, I just...I have to live up to their standards!" Serra tossed her dresses aside in frustration, tearing from his hold. "It's all I've done! Becoming a huntress, that was my dad's dream...And being the perfect lady? My mother! Nothing is mine! Not my looks, not my personality! The way I live! It's all theirs!"

Diarmuid began to understand, and he could relate, oh could he relate. All he's ever done was try to earn his father's approval, never questioning, always trying and failing. It was his newest life's struggle. Earning the acceptance of a man who all but hated him. "I understand."

"What? How do you understand anything of what I'm going through?!" She hissed eyes red with tears. "You've had everyhing! Given nothing! My entire life has always been decided for me, how can you stand there and sa you understand!?"

"Because," He was calm in the face of her rage, knowing she was lashing out, he still felt the barb of her words, but he didn't correct her, she didn't deserve that from him. "I've only ever lived trying to meet my father's expectations, after killing my mother, I've lived with his hate, always living to his expectations and never his approval, I know Serra. I do."

She stared at him, the, she turned away. "Leave."

Diarmuid silently stepped out, closing the door behind him and sighing. She was right, he'd never given anything but his best efforts, he supposed that wasn't good enough, was it? This marriage, neither she or he wanted it, it had to end... And to avoid her falling into the line of fire, Diarmuid would need to use drastic measures.

He had an idea.

* * *

Within the main room of the manor, you could have heard a pin drop as the silence stretched out into the evening hours of the night. His father was seated on his chair, looking at Diarmuid in clear surprise, no fury, no shock, just...Surprise. Finally, he found his voice, "What did you say?"

Diarmuid, who hadn't kneeled, instead stood tall, a cloak around his shoulders, his spears, Dae Dearg and Gae Buighe, were folded and hanging off his back beneath the cloak. He was in his combat gear, and a travel pack on his shoulder. His eyes were harsh, and his fists were clenched. "I, Diarmuid, hereby denounce my right as heir to our family name and our name itself! I am no longer of this family!"

"How...Dare you?!" His father stood, rage returning in full. "Do you think you can just denounce your name like some knight and call it over? Why would you even do such a thing!?"

"Because of this pathetic sham of a marriage, for starters," Diarmuid wouldn't hold back anymore, this was his final act as a member of this family, he would at least make it memorable. "I do not wish to marry Serra, I agreed simply to spare her parents the disappointment of seeing my disagreement as a courtesy to them, but now that you and I are alone, I am telling you now, I am not going through it, nor am I remaining a mamber of this accursed family."

"Boy," Growled the older man. "Watch your tongue, after all I've done for you!"

"The beatings, the relenteless betlittling, the spite and hate? Yes you've been a model father, but now It's time I've been a model son and give everything back to you, so here it is, all that made me your son, my name, my title, and your spite!" He turned, sharply, eyes narrowing as he fought the urge to kneel and beg forgiveness, he was betraying another lord, even if it was for the best of his friend, he was stll betraying his family and lord.

He was truly a terrible servant.

"Don't you walk away from me!"

Diarmuid did just that. Once he was outside, he glanced back at the manor one last time, the lights from the guest rooms were off, what drama he caused hadn't been found out yet, and he offered a smile when he saw a shadow peering out of Serra's window, it was a familiar shape. He'd have waved, but instead, he turned and proceeded towards the airship docks.

Along with Beacon's Acceptance letter in his pocket, Diarmuid, now Adfer, moved along.

He left the Schnee manor behind.

* * *

 **End of chapter Four**

 _Dun, dun, dunnnnnn. Yeah, yeah, I know, I knoooow, Diarmuid is a Schnee! Black haaaair, well, he does take after his non-Schnee mother, mostly! Not his Schnee Father! So yeah, there's that! And yes, his life is entirely suffering, as is the fate of Lancer! But, on the bright side? Next chapter we get into the real good stuff! Kingly stuff. All the kingly stuff...involving Beacon!_

 _Anyways, thanks for the support and reviews! We're reachin' that twenty mark and I am much excite! Have a nice day/night, peoples!_


	6. Chapter 5: Unbridled Rage

**Fate of Kings! Plus Lancer**

 **Chapter Five  
Unbridled Rage!**

"I despise you, King of Heroes!" Arturia roared as she swung her blade, the focused waves of her Aura that swirled along the gleaming edge lashed out and carved a small path ahead of her, her emerald eyes were lived and she was oh so close to cleaving her so called "partner" in two or three, hell, why stop at anything beneath one million?! "With every fiber of my being!"

"This was entirely your doing!" Laughed the golden former-servant as she swung out with her dual curved blades which she had apparently pulled out from accursed treasury! The fact the King of Heroes still had access to it was insanely vexing!

"Draw forth your copy of Excalibur!" Arturia demanded as she carved through another pair of Beowulves, who were quickly stepped over by another pair, eager to get at the source of all that negativity, which was Arturia's searing rage. "I can use it!"

"Oooh? We're not even married and already you want what is mine?" The Blonde quipped, jumping up and over one beast, landing upon it's back before kicking one out of the air as it jumped at her new perch, then she severed her stepping stone's head from it's body with an oddhanded swing of her blade then rejoined Arturia in the frey. "I might be more agreeable, but this is too much fun!"

That had Arturia pausing, briefly enough that a pair of jaws almost snapped at her face, she growled and swung around and upwards, cleaming debris and Grimm aside. "When did you get a taste for battle?!"

"When I remembered how fun it was!" Gilgamesh smirked and pressed her back to the King of Knights as the Beowulves encircled them, they'd carved through roughly three dozen in a minute and yet it looked like double that still waited for them. "Do we really have time to waste on this fodder? We must find those relics." She urged the other.

"Worried?"

"I refuse to fail because I was more concerned on eliminating pests than actually seeing our objective done."

"Then simply use a more powerful weapon."

"And waste my treasures on these?" A scoff. "I'd sooner ask for that buffoon Rider's help."

" _ **TO BATTLE**_!"

Everything seemed to pause at the loud, feminine bellow, even the beowulves seemed entirely perplexed as to where such a shout had come from. Gilgamesh and Arturia exchanged a glance, the former's eyes blinked while the latter's narrowed. "What happens next is entirely your fault King of Heroes."

"...What _are_ the odds?"

To answer that question, life burst forth from the treeline with a crackle of lightning and the stumping thunder of hooves as Iskandra appeared, riding atop a lightning clad steed, sword in one hand and reins in the other, pointing her blade forward. "Trample all beneath your great hooves!" And with another shout, the rest of the tree line burst foward as dozens of horses rushed onto the field, all wrapped in lightning and whinnying their own war cries.

The moment they closed, they exploded, just...Straight exploded, clearing swathes of Grimm and leaving sizable craters in the ground as they blew a path straight one front of the Grimm forces, who "rallied" in the sense they resumed their attack, jumping at the approaching steeds with pure idiocy as they all but exploded themselves and those around them.

It was like watching two waves of lemmings charge the other, one rigged to explode and the other rigged with the detonators.

By the end of the destruction, Arturia and Gilgamesh barely had five wolves to their remains, and they dispatched those quickly before Rider rode up to them and offered them both a wave. "As I live and breathe again! I'd recognize those eyes anywhere! King of Knights! King of Heroes!"

She hopped off her steed, which then disappeared, returning to her Aura reserves. She approached, "It seems Fate has been kind, for now we are reunited!" She spread her arms.

"No!"

"Rider no!"

Iskandra ignored them and swung his arms in, catching Gilgamesh just as she was mid turn to get away from the tall redhead, once in her arms, they struggled briefly, before they were both squeeed. "My friends!" Squeeze! Ingoring the way they begged for mercy. "It has been so long!" More squeezing!

"King of Conquerors, would you release our fellow initiates?" A tired voice said from behind her, and she knew Lancer must have finallt caught up! "They appear to be dying."

Whatever else could be said for Diarmuid, he was more than aware how strong the woman could be, and when they were both released, it was Arturia who was more than a little surprised when she stepped to the side and peered at the man who had "saved" them, and who she saw had her eyes widening and mouth parting.

Diarmuid likewise was stunned as well. before he finally came back to Remnant... Along with somthing else. Remember that "Hateful Rage of Diarmuid"? Well let's just say shock wasn't the only thing slamming back into the former Servant. Enough so that he soon grit his teeth, "Saber." He growled.

"Lancer...I-" She stopped herself, looking away, how could she face this man? They had been knights, and because of her master's cruelty, their final battle which should have ended in honor and without regret was instead marred by shame and trickery, none of it on her part, but her master's actions were also her own. So she bore as much of the blame as Kiritsugu.

Gilgamesh and Iskandra glanced at each other, then to the pair of knights, Diarmuid with narrowed eyes seething with tamed rage, and Arturia shamefully unable to meet such a gaze. Iskandra stepped forward, about to try and defuse this situation...When Gilgamesh spoke up for all of them to hear. "As much as I'm sure hearing about what sparks this dramatical performance, need I remind you all we're stll going through initiation? Can this wait until after we pass?"

The way she worded that that last bit didn't sound like a question, but it was Arturia who took the opening, andf fast. "Of course, let us go, King of Heroes." She turned and made her way in a direction that seemed remotely pleasant, AKA anywhere but there. Without a sound Gilgamesh followed after her, glancing back over her shoulder with a smirk.

Leaving Lancer and Rider behind.

"...Well, that was...Surprising?" That was one way to word that.

"Don't ask, King of Conquerors, just... Don't ask." Diarmuid sighed and raised a hand up to, running it oer his hair. "Let's just finish this accursed task ourselves." This was a good way to mar his time at Beacon, he knew there could have been others who had been reincarnated, the King of Conqeurors was a good sign of that, but to have the King of Knights? The woman who's very appearance got him to rage?

How could this get worse?

* * *

"How can we not kill a giant flying buzzard?!" Diarmuid snarled as he dove out of the way of another volley of feathers, which pierced the ground around him in a shower of death, he turned and with a flick of Gae Dearg, deflected one of the arrows that had been on point for his face. "Did not one of us train with firearms?!"

"I didn't! And my horses cannot reach that height!" Iskandra said, taking cover behind one of the ruins pillers. "What of you, King of Heroes! Do you not have a weapon in your treasury to deal with this pest?!"

"As if I would waste my treasures on so lowly a beast, it'd be dead now if I desired it, but as it is, I find watching you three run around like chickens with your heads cut off all the more amusing." That arrogant smirk might have been effective...

Were it not for the fact Gilgamesh was currently taking cover behind the ruin wall, which was the biggest piece of cover anywhere between the ruins and the sudden cliff fall that awaited them if that thing kept driving them backwards.

"We cannot simply just let this thing herd us to a drop!" Arturia growled, gripping her sword tightly in her hands. "Wait..." She looked thoughtful, "Rider! Can you swing that fallen tree trunk behind you?"

Rider glanced over her shoulder, seeing the trunk of a decently sized tree, she ran over to it, almost getting clipped by a feather, before hefting it up in both arms and swinging, once, twice, then she nodded. "Yes! But I don't think it will be enough to bring that Nevermore!"

"It's not meant to," Diarmuid said, suddenly behind the same piller she had been previously, pressing his back to it, he frowned. "She means for you to bat her into the path of the bird so that she may strike it down," He glanced over to the blonde King of Knights, "Isn't that right?" He tried his best not to sneer. He really, really did.

"Uh, yes, that is right, if I can get close enough, my sword should be able to cleave it's wing at least If we can bring it down to ground, we can kill it."

"You mean to use your Semblance?" Diarmuid asked.

"I...Don't think my Semblance is suited to this, it is more support than offensive. I shall rely on my blade alone."

"Forget it then," Diarmuid dismissed, shaking his head, "I will take the task of bringing that bird to ground," He gripped both his spears and lifted them, "No objections, I assume?"

"None," Arturia looked resigned, "Just be careful, Lancer."

"I don't need your concern." Diarmuid said, when neither King of Heroes or Conquerors objected, he nodded to the red haired Rider. "Get ready," Iskandra looked a little too eager to swing a tree trunk into him. "Go!" Diarmuid rushed from cover, glancing at the Nevermore who was giving them so much trouble, it was cirlcing back around for another pass... Perfect. He jumped up, curling his legs at the same time tha swing began, the trunk touched his feet and began to carry him forward...Then he kicked up with Aura enhanced legs.

The trunk exploded. His ears popped and suddenly DIarmuid Adfer was a bullet on an intercept course. He flew forward, tunnel vision taking hold as he twisted his spaears in hand, the shaft of Dearg parted, clicking away and with a click he inserted Buidhe, creating a crimsom shaft with a golden pointed spear, the parted blade of Dearg creationg a sort of crossguard beneath the golden edged blade. The weight was all but doubled as well.

He gripped it in both hands, the Nevermore entered his sight and he grinned. "You're mine!" He twisted in the air, bringing that spear around and forward with a flash of steel... The Nevermore screeched in agony as it's shoulder was pierced and the spearman was on it's back, ripping that weapon out none too gently before driving it back into the point where the wing met the body.

Needless to say, the Nevermore caved, and dipped to the side when it's wing no longer began to respond as well as it wanted to the commands of "FLAP FLAP LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO!", so his job complete, Diarmuid rode the giant bird dwon, waiting until it slammed into the ground before he leapt off and as it slid over the cliffside screeching bloody death, he landed in the wake of it and stood, leaning his combined spear on his shoulder and smirking at his comrades.

Because cool guys don't look at the things they kill.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad?

* * *

"You are now team ADGI (Agile)!" The roaring applause and cheers from the second, third and fourth years watching the stage were almost enough to drown out Diarmuid's facepalm, Iskandra's fists raising into the air in victory, Gilgamesh appearing entirely at home under the basking of praise and cheer. Arturia just looked like someone broke her world, put it back together poorly then shoved her into it with a whole new set of rules.

"Lead by...Arturia Arc!"

" _ **What**_?!" All four members of the newly formed team exclaimed.

"Congratulations, young lady," Ozwald said with a smile, taking Arturia's armored hand in his own and shaking it before turning back to the crowd. "Summer Rose..."

They tuned out the others, that wasn't important, what was important was that this was single handedly the third worst day of her life! First being the fall of Camelot, second being the time Merlin gave her magical man parts and now this?! _THIS_?! Why did the universe hate her so much?!

And why were the Kings of Conquerors and Heroes looking at her like her appointment as leader was _ **HER**_ fault?!

* * *

 **End of Chapter Five**

 _Yup! There it was, no awesome fight scenes, no great story expansion, and just a hint of Arturia and Lancer suffering together! Because frankly I ship them in a way that I ship two Titanics! IE they both get to suuufffer! Because I enjoy it. That said, this story won't be getting overly deep and it's really just a means for me to vent my typing urges when I need to, so don't think it's going to get overly complex!_

 _That said, thanks for all the follows and support for this little project of mine, I appreciate it!_

 _PS. I use Iskandar because I happen to like how it sounds, it just sounds sooo much more exotic than Alexander, that's my only real reason!_


End file.
